


Jatne Akaanir

by 5bluetriangles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dry Humping, Floor Sex, Grinding, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sparring, din's very into it, feelings? we don't talk about her, no verbal consent but they are having a mutually good time, paz BIG, primal play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5bluetriangles/pseuds/5bluetriangles
Summary: Din and Paz's relationship has always been sort of strained, but a good spar with a vod is sure to get out some pent up energy, right?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	Jatne Akaanir

**Author's Note:**

> First mando fic! I'm working on multiple but writing be hard and this little one is the first to be finished/even close to done lol. Please enjoy these two boys fucking their stress away when they were just supposed to be sparring. This is set some time before the show and I like to think their relationship is a bit volatile but they're still pretty close, having grown up and trained together. I am totally up for ideas for more stuff in the comments, though this will be staying a one-shot! I sometimes post drawings on my nsfw twitter and hope to draw some pazdin soon: https://twitter.com/5sinfultriangl1
> 
> Mando'a in this fic!
> 
> "Buy'ce" - helmet  
> "Beskar'gam" - mandalorian armour  
> "Osik" - shit  
> "Vod" - brother (both used for direct family and brothers in arms)  
> "Beskar" - mandalorian steel (of course)  
> "Din'ika" - Din, but small. (ika being a diminutive suffix)  
> "Beroya" - bounty hunter  
> "Gar serim" - that's it  
> "Gedet'ye" - please  
> "Jatne akaanir" - good fight

Din was distracted.  
  
One really shouldn’t be when sparring, particularly with Paz Vizsla, but he was riled up; his nerves buzzing with restlessness.  
  
His last hunt had been long and tiring, running him ragged, yet he had found himself needy with excess energy when he returned home to the covert. An itch that led him to searching out something physical. Paz was easy enough to find and was never one to turn down a good spar, not from Din. He was a challenging opponent too, much too strong to overpower and too sturdy to trick into tripping up over himself. Din’s only real chance was to tire the man out until he grew _just_ clumsy enough to lose the upper hand.  
  
They were both panting, dull aches left by fists finding the vulnerable places not protected by armour and the heat of -albeit non-deadly- combat fueling the muscle memory of years-practiced training. A dance of friendly violence as Din kept his steps light and quick, Paz’s heavy and sure.  
  
Din slipped through Paz’s punches to get in a jab that met the meat of the man’s side, but the infantryman was ready and caught his arm with a grip strong enough to bruise if not for his vambraces. He couldn’t help the thrill that tore through him at the feeling of being caught, the way Paz wrenched him by the arm to throw him off balance like he weighed nothing, like his posture hadn’t been weighed perfectly. It was a known hazard when it came to Paz, and he pulled his arm free when the man’s grip loosened a little at the awkward angle, regaining his footing easily enough and setting his feet as he raised his vambraces defensively. Vizsla would have to do more than toss him around to win, they both knew. The fire was still a molten heat in their bellies.  
  
In the end, that ended up being his downfall.  
  
He got eager, stayed too close for too long, and while he was busy avoiding Paz’s fists; the infantry man swept his legs out from under him.  
  
He rolled to the side onto his belly, but that had been a mistake as Paz was surprisingly quick to climb on top of him and pin him down. When he struggled, trying to buck the man off of him; large hands came to encircle his arms and pin them at his sides, none too gentle as Paz breathed hard and ragged above him. He was trapped, buy’ce scraping along the ground as he turned his head to the side and growled, kicking his feet out along the ground to try to find purchase. The man had completely boxed him in, knees planted on the either side of his thighs, weight crushing him and hands keeping his arms still.  
  
“Caught you” Paz said, winded but unrelenting.  
  
Din didn’t give up, more for the principle of it than any thoughts that he still had a chance, but it wasn’t terribly long until he ran out of the righteous fury to resist being beaten and his muscles loosened as he panted and sweat beneath his helmet. Paz was still just as heavy when he wasn’t fighting against him, warm and solid and strong. There was something exhilarating about being overpowered; able to struggle as much as he could and not get away.  
  
They were still trying to catch their breaths when Paz pressed his hips forward into the curve of Din’s ass as they began to even out more, groaning softly by the smaller man’s ear through their helms. Din could feel his erection jutting against him, digging into him and making his heart race as he swallowed down a sound of his own. It wasn’t something strange, hormones ran high in matches. He could tap out. But then Paz would climb off him and he would be left just as pent up as he was before, if not worse. The tension between them had finally pulled taught; some stupid childhood rivalry they had never grown out of and burgeoning sexual attraction leading to them entangled on the stone floor of an empty training room. He breathed hard through his nose rather than whimper, spreading his legs as much as he could with what little space he had, already unfairly hard. This is what he wanted from the start, he realized. Something heated and rough. Earned in combat.  
  
Paz let go of his right arm to brace himself against the ground with his own forearm, beskar’gam clacking, and Din didn’t try to escape as the man ground into him. He could feel the size of him through their clothes; a thick, unrelenting press, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside him. It wouldn’t be an easy fit, but the thought of the burning stretch of it had his cock twitching desperately.  
  
“Osik,” he wheezed under Paz’s crushing weight, and the infantry man grunted, laying more of it across his back for better leverage to use him as if he were some sort of plaything to ruin. He liked it, gulping for air as the man left him breathless. It wasn’t fair; a vod bigger and stronger in full beskar working him up like this from besting him. He wasn’t supposed to _like_ it.  
  
“Din’ika” Paz growled, clinking the face of his helm against the back of Din’s in something both tender and dominating, thrusting against him in such a way that the beroya knew what he would rather be doing. His breath hitched and a proper sound finally escaped, making Paz groan long and low like he was losing it too. He had to be leaking, the force of each thrust pressing along his aching cock where it was trapped between his hip and the ground, making him squirm.  
  
Suddenly Paz was moving, reaching down to undo his pants enough to free his cock and wrench Din’s waistband over his ass, down his thighs several inches.  
  
A flash of Paz pushing inside and taking him filled the beroya’s mind, making a whimper of a moan spill out of him. In the brief time the infantry man’s cock lay across his cheek he focused on the weight of it, the size, sure that he would split him apart and leave him begging no matter the prep, but it was with that that he realized they had no way of doing it. There was no way he could take him with spit alone, and as Paz shifted his weight to hold him down properly again, he felt the man slip the velvety head of his cock between his cheeks down lower to fit between the meat of his thighs where they met his ass and he caught on, pressing them together.  
  
“Gar serim” Paz breathed, bringing his right arm back up to brace himself again as he sunk into the squeeze of Din’s thighs around him, the girth plenty prominent to fuel the fantasies and hunger for something more intense.  
  
Din gasped out as Paz fucked between his legs, pushing his now bare cock against the ground in a cold contrast to the feverish heat of their coupling, his right hand reaching out desperately to grip the infantry man’s thigh, the only part of him able to hold onto something. “Gedet’ye,” he pled, even though he didn’t know what for, the drag of Paz’s cock better than he had expected as the head pressed into his balls on each stroke and the length of him rubbed along the sensitive crease of his thighs. “Kriff—”  
  
Paz grunted and Din’s cock throbbed, the scrape of the bare floor cold and uncomfortable but better than the nothing as his hips rocked involuntarily, chasing the heat of his arousal. Wicked claws of pleasure tracing down his belly and along his cock from root to tip at the gruff sounds Paz wheezed in his ear, his visor fogged and his hair damp with sweat, a bead rolling down his brow as he pressed his face into the ground behind the shelter of his buy’ce.  
  
“ _Paz_ ” he croaked, tone reedy with desperation, weeks’ worth pent up need a white-hot burn in his loins that the infantry man only stoked bigger and brighter with each thrust and growl. He imagined what he would sound like without their helmets in the way; his voice clear without the vocoder, the wet heat of his breaths panted into his neck, his teeth in the meat of his shoulder.  
  
As Din tried to push his ass up into Paz, the man’s left hand left Din’s arm to grip his hip and pin it down with a snarl, his ruthless thrusts picking up and making the smaller man choke on a sob. The round clap of their flesh meeting was softened by their closeness, but it still sounded under their gasps and grunts and whimpers, spurring Paz on even as his precum and the sweat on Din’s thighs wasn’t enough to fully save him from being chaffed, burying himself between them in long, hard strokes. They were growing sloppy, control stuttering and making Din whine. He was close. Almost there. If he could just finish before Paz—  
  
The rhythm staggered, then stopped, and then Paz let out a long, relieved groan and bucked through his release with his hips flush against Din’s ass, balls twitching.  
  
It was the hot, wet jets of cum spilling between his legs to run down over his balls that set Din off just in time; his muscles locking up and body fitfully pushing against Paz’s weight as his cock throbbed and jerked. His jaw hung open in a silent cry, eyes squeezed shut tight as the pleasure rolled over him in waves, his own release shooting out in ropes to soak into his flight suit and his legs quivered gently. It had been much, much too long since he took care of himself sexually, and this had been exactly what he needed.  
  
Above him, Paz took in great gulps of air, his exhales heavy and animalistic as he came down from it all; the swell of his belly along Din’s lower back soft now as he relaxed, buy’ce resting against Din’s own. Something close and gentle that neither knew if it was to be discussed. Certainly not now at least.  
  
Slowly, the infantry man pulled away, leaving Din feeling chilly vulnerable without his body atop him, sitting up on his knees to tuck his somewhat raw-feeling cock back into his flight suit. Din felt as though he should say something as the larger man climbed off of him and he got to his hands and knees, panting and feeling surprisingly fucked-out for not having had anything inside him. He couldn’t think of anything though, turning to sit on the floor as Paz walked to the doorway.  
  
The man looked back, standing as tall and proud as ever but breaths still not fully even as he said “Jatne akaanir.” The closest thing to a compliment he’d ever given towards Din.  
  
Then he left, heavy boots echoing down the hallway and leaving Din messy; pants pulled down over his ass and still mildly reeling.


End file.
